David Anderson and the Marauding Marauders
by DavidTheElder
Summary: It's been 11 years since the war ended, and things have mostly been rebuilt. It's time to send out the Hogwarts acceptance letters, and young David Anderson, a muggleborn wizard, has just gotten his. Follow him and the rest of the New Marauders as they adventure through Hogwarts, trying to fix that which is broken. Currently abandoned.
1. Introductions

David Anderson and the Marauding Marauders, Chapter 1: Introductions

In the year 1998, the second wizarding war had ended. The climax of the war had taken dozens of lives, and done some fairly serious damage to Castle Hogwarts. The man commonly claimed to be the hero of the war, Harry James Potter, had finally weakened the Dark Lord Voldemort to the point of mortality, and lured him to Castle Hogwarts, where he had set up defenses and organized the older students into an army. The Dark Lord was slain, a prophecy was fulfilled, Ron and Hermione hooked up, and Nevile became a badass. The Ministry was put into the hands of a man who could give it the reform it needed, and all was right with the world as the Wizarding Community worked to rebuild.

However, our story is not a retelling of those events, as someone else has already told that story, quite possibly better than I could have. Our story takes place in the year 2009, 11 years after the war ended, and Magical Britain had, for the most part, recovered. Here we find our story, which focuses on an 11 year old boy, who became a wizard.

David Anderson was at home, enjoying his summer holiday. He was in his room, practicing his magic tricks. David was very good at the art of illusion, so good, in fact, that even if somebody knew exactly what he did in his trick, they couldn't replicate it. He was working on a trick involving an Asian-style paper fan and 3 sausage rolls, when he heard his mum calling him to the foyer. He put down his material components, and rushed to the foyer, because his mum was not a woman to be kept waiting.

"David, you got a letter in the post. Says here it's from 'Hogwarts', any idea what that's all about?"

"No, mum. I've no idea. Wonder what's in it."

Mrs. Anderson handed David his letter, and David opened it with the grace and flair of a stage magician, which he was. The letter read thusly;

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall

Dear Mr. Anderson,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 2nd. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.

Yours sincerely,

Dean Thomas

Deputy Headmaster

David had read the whole letter out loud, and then perused the list included.

"A wand, a cauldron, a whole bunch of textbooks I've never heard of, and… Dragon scale gloves? Mum, I think someone's putting us on."

"Well, that's odd. I suppose you should hang on to that, it might be needed at some point."

"Alright then. Now, if you will excuse me, I'll get back to practicing my craft."

"Oh, you boys. Always getting wrapped up in your little hobbies."

"Well, Mum, it's something to keep me occupied and to impress our relatives when they visit for Christmas. And besides, I don't deride your hobbies."

"That's because my hobbies are respectable."

"And mine are a spectacle. See? I also practice wordplay."

"Good lord. Go on, practice your little tricks. To be honest, they are impressive."

"Thanks, Mum."

And with that, David waltzed back to his room, letter in hand, and sat down at his desk. He took a sheet of paper from one of the drawers, and a pencil from another, and thought for a moment, before writing a letter in response.

To whomsoever deigns to read this missive,

I have received your letter, and am quite confused.

You see, I have not heard of 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry' prior to receiving your letter. Also, I have been led to believe by many trusted authority figures that both witchcraft and wizardry are legends from days of old, meant to explain that which was unknown and yet feared. The included equipment list also confused me, as I had never heard of any of the mentioned tomes beforehand. In addition, I found dragonscale gloves to either be made of a material that is in no way made from dragons, or nonexistent.

In short, I am confused, and would very much appreciate a representative to respond with an explanation. Perhaps this is a school for training stage magicians? If so, I would be interested, being a stage magician myself.

Confused and cautious,

David Anderson

Stage Magician

David sighed. He probably used the phrase 'stage magician' far too many times in that letter, but David was not known for his literary talents. He carefully folded it into an envelope, wrote the return address on the corner, and looked for an address on the letter he had received. Disgruntled to not find one, he reread the original letter, finding mention of an owl. This served to confuse David even more, and so he stowed both letters in a third drawer in his desk. He would deal with this another time.

'Another time' turned out to be next week, when a man in some sort of black cloak knocked on the door. David happened to be walking by the door when the knock came, and so answered the door.

"Hello, young man. My name is Dean Thomas, Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I've been sent around to all the muggleborn houses to sort things out, as you're not likely to have an owl."

"Erm… Can I help you? Would you like to-"

David's mother shouted from her office, "David! Who's at the door?"

"It's some bloke named Dean Thomas, Mum! Same guy from that letter last week!"

"Oh, that was real? Well, come on in, Mr. Thomas. I'll brew some tea."

A few minutes later, all three were sitting in the den, holding a fresh cup of tea. David's mum wasn't very good at brewing tea, but it was a drinkable liquid.

"So, Mr. Anderson, I understand you received our letter."

"I did. Somewhat confused me, but you're here, and hopefully can help with the confusion."

"I can. You are a wizard, plain and simple. Your powers are at a state where training can begin properly, and Hogwarts is the place for that."

"And yet I didn't know that I'm a wizard because..?"

"Your parents are muggles, people without magic. If you were born to a wizarding family, like most wizards, you'd've known growing up."

"Ah. So, about these items, where would I go about purchasing them? I've not heard of any of these books, and I suspect the other items must be to a certain standard only wizard shops will meet."

"Spot on, my boy. There's a place called Diagon Alley that holds all that you need. There's a wizard bank called Gringotts, run by the goblins. Word of caution, be polite and fair with the goblins. They control the entire banking system of Wizarding Britain, and being polite with them will do you no harm and no small amount of good."

"Huh. So, where is it?"

"I'll take you there with your parents to get your school supplies. You can get muggle money exchanged for wizard money at Gringotts, so don't worry about that. A word of friendly advice, a galleon, a golden coin which is our highest denomination, is 5 pounds at Gringotts, but would likely go for 50 pounds on the muggle market."

"Jesus. That's a lot of dosh."

"Keep it under your hat, alright? You're the first I've told of this, and the only one. I'd rather the goblins not notice this little exploit. Just… Just get a few more galleons than you'll need, and sell those when you get back. I recommend you acquire a bag of holding, and possibly an owl."

"Are owls seriously the way wizards send messages nowadays? That's backwards, that is."

"I know, I'm muggleborn myself, and it's a right pain, having to use a bloody owl when an email would do."

"Well, I now have a quest: Fix the wizarding communications network. Not gonna lie, I'll probably give up."

"Still, an admirable goal. Right, well, I'll be back on the 28th to bring you to Diagon Alley. While we're there, I'll show you how to call the Knight Bus to take you to the Alley. The enterance, by the way, is a pub called The Leaky Cauldron. Muggles know it exists, so you'll find it on google. Word of caution, don't head there before you've got your wand. You'll need it to get into the Alley."

"I assume I'll be getting that on the 28th…"

"Along with your books, robes, and other school stuff. Also a familiar, if you wish."

"A familiar?"

"A pet, magical in nature. It'll live a long time, and build a special bond with you. Nowadays, in Hogwarts, only owls, toads, and cats are allowed, although dogs and rats are unofficially allowed."

"Why would anyone have a pet rat?"

"Dunno. Wizards are crazy, mate. I recommend a cat, or maybe a dog, if you're fine with walking it every day."

"Well, we'll see on the 28th. Today's the 21st, right?"

"Indeed. Right, well, I'll be on my way, then. I'll see you in a week."

With that, Dean put down his cup and took his leave. He had to take a muggleborn family to Diagon Alley today, and so, he disappeared with a crack.

The week before David's first trip to Diagon Alley was filled with anticipation, and David swearing an oath upon the graves of his grandparents, the Queen, and every deity he could think of offhand, to take care of the dog he would acquire at Diagon Alley. He decided that he would try for a black-furred one,and that he would name it Sirius, since Sirius is sometimes called 'the dog star'.

When Dean returned on the 28th, he led them to the street, and held out a stick that was probably a wand much the same way a hitchiker holds out his thumb. Immediately, a blue, three story bus appeared from what had been empty air moments ago.

They boarded, told the driver to take them to the Leaky Cauldron, and sat down. David began the conversation.

"So, a question. I looked it up, and the Leaky Cauldron is in London. We're currently in Bristol. That's a while to drive, isn't it?"

"Well, Mr. Anderson, the Knight bus can teleport."

"Cool! How, exactly?"

"A wizard did it."

"I get that, but how?"

"He's a wizard, and he used magic."

"Well, you're unhelpful."

"I'm deputy headmaster, it's my job to be as unhelpful as possible."

"Well, you're doing your job very well. You deserve a raise, in fact, if this is the standard you're setting."

After a few minutes, the bus stopped, and they stepped off, entering the Leaky Cauldron. They quickly headed for the back, exiting into a small courtyard with a brick wall. Dean pulled out his stick, and tapped a brick, which shifted, along with other bricks, to form an archway to what looked like 19th century London.

"Alright, first stop is Gringotts. We'll go there, and then we'll pick up the books."

The trip to Gringotts was uneventful. All involved were polite and curteous, and exactly 60 galleons were obtained. They headed for olivanders, where David obtained a 12.5 inch wand of oak with a dragon heartstring core. The group then split, as Dean went to find the assorted equipment, Mrs. Anderson went to obtain the books, and David went to get a dog and a bag of holding.

The shop that sold familiars was fairly empty of people that day, which was a pleasant surprise for David. He looked around, before finding a litter of puppies, all with smooth black fur. He then called over the clerk, who wasn't doing much, and asked a few questions.

"So, what breed are these?"

"Oh, those? They're a black labrador litter, but don't expect much in the way of heritage or pedigree. I'd say they'd go for 10 galleons each. Already housetrained, don't worry."

"Huh. You answered all of my questions, without me asking most of them. I'm impressed, and would like to purchase one."

"Alright then. You'll want a collar, some tags, and a lead, if you don't have those on you. All of those'll be an extra galleon."

David counted out eleven galleons, and handed them to the man, and then picked up one of the puppies, who promptly licked his face. He then grabbed a collar and a lead from one of the shelves, and walked to the counter to get the tags.

"So, what're you naming him?"

"Sirius. I'll name him Sirius, as an astronomy joke."

"Heh. Y'know, there's a bit of recent historical significance to the name Sirius."

"I stand by my bad astronomy joke."

"Alright, then. Now, you'll need to fill out a bit of ministry paperwork, so sign here."

"Alright, let me just read it first."

The parchment that was given to David was a familiar registration form. The form merely meant that Sirius was David's dog, and that David was partially responsible for Sirius. The paperwork was then signed, and David put the tags and collar on his dog, and hooked the lead to the collar. He carried Sirius out of the store, and found his way to a vendor of magical items of varying utility. He purchased a pouch that held 64 times what it normally would have, and would normally have held a liter of whatever you put in it. While that was a lot of space for a pouch at one's waist, it wasn't enough space for all of the things David would need to bring with him. So, once he reunited with his mum and Dean, their next order of business was to acquire a trunk for David. With the trunk obtained, and all of David's various bits and bobs stuffed in it, they left Diagon alley with 20 Galleons left in their pockets, which, for those keeping score at home, would net 1000 pounds, once they were sold.

The next month was spent reading the spellbook David had acquired, and practicing the wand motions and incantations with the wand David used for magic tricks. He wasn't allowed to use magic at home, to prevent the population at large from finding out about wizards. He had argued that he was a well known stage magician, and neighbors who saw him doing magic would simply think he was practicing his magic tricks. Dean had replied with "I know that, you know that, and if the ministry knows that, they probably don't care." That got David to agree to not use his wand until he got to school.

When the time came, David was given instructions to go to Platform 9.75 at King's Cross Station in London. David was fairly sure tht "Platform 9.75" did not exist, but then remembered that he was a wizard goint to a boarding school for wizards, and he had a magic dog that had an empathetic link to him that he acquired in a marketplace that was concealed in a back alley behind a pub. A hidden train platform was not out of the question. And so, with trepidation, David called the knight bus to take him to the station. The ride was short, and David disembarked with his luggage and dog.

He walked through the station to between platforms 9 and 10, and looked around for some sort of sign. He saw someone running towards one of the pillars, and then disappear into the pillar. David decided that this was probably the best course of action, and walked into the pillar, reappearing in a platform that was labled "9 3/4". He saw various people dressed in black robes much like his own scattered about, parents and children alike. Some were waving wands about. After about 15 minutes of waiting, when the clock struck 10:45, a red train rolled into the station. David, who had been standing near the edge of the platform, was among the first on the train. He picked a compartment which seemed empty, and sat down with his dog. He stowed his trunk under the seat, much like he had when traveling by train in the past, and lied down on the bench, playing with his excitable puppy. About a minute later, another boy opened the door, and asked,"Do you mind if I sit in here?"

"No, go on ahead. Name's David Anderson, Muggleborn."

"Thanks." The boy sat down, and resumed talking. "My name's Ted Lupin. I think I'm either pureblood or half blood, I don't know which. The blood purity system is complicated."

"Blood purity? What, is the wizarding world run by Nazis?"

"Sometimes, it's hard to tell. But, no, not actual members of the National Socialist party. But the wizarding world is still suffering under the yoke of prejudice, the pure bloods, those without any muggle blood in them, are under the impression that they're superior to half-bloods, those with some muggle blood in them, and muggleborns, or mudbloods, as they call them, who've been born to muggles or a pairing of muggleborns."

"Huh. Damnit, I already had a quest!"

"Oh? And what was your quest?"

"To eliminate the wizarding world's dependency on owls to transmit messages, of course!"

"You're certainly ambitious."

"Well, I'm not doing this by myself. Would you like to help me?"

"Well, it would fit my family history of joining world-changing conspiracies, so yeah."

"Oh? Family history? Care to elaborate?"

"Well, my late father, Remus Lupin-"

"My apologies, but was your father a werewolf?"

"How did you guess?"

"In Roman mythology, Remus and Romulus founded the city of Rome, after being abandoned in the wilderness as infants, and being raised by wolves. Lupin is a letter away from lupine, meaning wolf-like."

"Huh. Well, anyways, he joined a group called the order of the phoenix to help fight the Dark Lord."

"Well, your father, it seems, was a brave man. Was he ever in a school-based conspiracy?"

"Well, the Order was run by Hogwarts' headmaster at the time, one Mr. Albus Dumbledore. But I think that's not what you mean, and he was part of a quartet called The Marauders, who were legendary pranksters in their time. They were all animagi or my dad, and had nicknames based on that fact alone. My dad was 'Moony' because werewolves and the full moon. The other members… I'm trying to remember Gran's stories… James Potter was a stag animagus, and was called 'Prongs', due to his antlers. Sirius Black was called 'Padfoot', and was a dog animagus."

"Huh. Odd, 'cause my little puppy right here? I named him Sirius, as an astronomy joke. The clerk told me the name had some recent historical significance, so is that it?"

"Well, Sirius Black also gave his life in the war, but before the war, at the end of the first one, in fact, he was wongly imprisoned for something the fourth marauder, Peter Pettigrew did. He escaped from prison in the form of a dog. Anyways, yeah, Peter Pettigrew, called 'Wormtail', transformed into a rat. He's also dead, acually, all the marauders are dead. They all died in the second war, except for James Potter, who died at the end of the first. Died protecting his son, Harry, who, incidentally, ended both the first and second wars and is also my godfather."

"…That's a lot to take in. So, this 'Harry' guy, is he a celebrity of sorts now?"

"Bit of an understatement, but yeah. He's got two sons, and a daughter on the way. They'll be joining us at Hogwarts in about 5 years, or at least the oldest one will. The other boy'll be with us in 7 years."

"So, what you're saying is that we won't be able to have a Potter in our new Marauders?"

"Well, we certainly weren't getting a new Black or Pettigrew, seeing as how those families died out in the male line. Anyways, Potter's a common surname in England, we might be able to find a muggleborn with the name. Why he-"

Another boy stuck his head into the compartment and asked,"Do you mind if I sit here?"

"Come on in, my dear boy. Take a seat, and say hello to my little puppy, Sirius. He's the heart of this little group. My name's David Anderson, that's Ted Lupin, and your name is?"

The boy entered the compartment, stowed his luggage under the seat, and sat down next to David. All the while, he said,"My name's Harry Potter. I'm a muggleborn, so I've no idea what's going on. Erm, did I say something?"

All jaws not belonging to Harry within earshot dropped like a stone from a dirigible. Surely this was just coincidence, right?

"Erm… Run that by me one more time?"

"Harry Potter. Is there some significance to the name?"

"Harry potter is my godfather, and also the one who ended the two most recent wars. He's a very well known figure. Well, David, it seems we will have a Potter in the Marauders, after all."

"Indeed we shall, Ted. If he wants to join us. Do you want to join us, Harry?"

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"We're going to try to drag the wizarding world into the 21st century, even if we have to drag it kicking and screaming."

"Huh. I'm in."

"Right, well, I hereby declare that-"

There was another person knocking on the door, then opening the door. A girl stuck her head in, this time.

"Do you-"

"Yes, you can sit here. I'm David Anderson, this is Ted Lupin, that's Harry Potter, no relation to the celebrity, and this is Sirius."

"I'm Gabrielle Prewett. Call me Gabby or Gab."

"Are you a talkative one?"

"No, why"

"Gabby is a slang adjective for someone who has trouble keeping their mouth closed or vocal cords still. Gab is a slang verb for talking incessantly."

"Well, that's probably not what my parents intended. They're not muggles or closely related to muggles, so they don't keep up with muggle terms."

"Wait, wizards isolate themselves from normal people?"

"Yep. That's why they have the statute of secrecy. The pure bloods don't like the muggles, and that's how we got into the state we're in. So, are we all first years in here?"

There was a chorus of 'aye's. Gabby sat down next to Ted, and David spoke once more.

"So, hopefully there are no more inter-"

The train's horn sounded, and it started moving.

"OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. This is getting ridiculous! Alright, no more interrupions, so let me brief everyone on my plan. My plan is to institute a system to remove the wizarding world's dependency on owls. To this end, I propose that all four of us take up the mantle of the Marauders, like Ted's father before him, Remus Lupin. All who wish to join? You can back out later, if you want, we won't think less of you if you do."

Ted spoke up first. "You know I'm in."

Harry piped in, "I'm in. I may as well."

Gabby added, "If only to see your solution in the making…"

David then retook the conversation. "Right, well, now that that's all settled, we need to establish nicknames!"

Ted interjected, "I'm a metamorphmagus, which means I can change any aspect of my appearance. What you can do is important to the nicknames."

Harry added, "I'm not aware of any special ability on my part, sorry. Snakes do odd things around me though…"

Gabby said, "Are we sure he's not the real Hary Potter? He was a parselmouth too, just like this guy here."

The conversation carried on to Hogsmead Station, and they discovered that Harry was a parselmouth, Gabby an expert in stealth, and David revealed his skills as a stage magician. They decided on calling Harry "Solid Snake", Ted "Decoy Octopus", Gabby "Grey Fox", and David "Psycho Mantis". The Metal Gear Solid joke was not lost on Harry, nor on David. Ted and Gabby, on the other hand, had absolutely no idea where the names come from. They got off the train, got on the boats, and walked into the great hall, a sense of wonder building in all of them.

Author's Notes

David, Harry, and Gabby are all Original Characters. Yes, in canon, Theodore Lupin is a metamorphmagus, much like his late mother. Harry is not related to the other Harry Potter by blood or marriage. He's a muggleborn lad, who just happens to be a parselmouth. It's a very rare occurance, and is also entirely coincidental and benign. If you liked the story, check in next wednesday for the next chapter. They'll be sorted in that one. Harry's sorting, with a nickname of 'Snake', shouldn't surprise anyone too badly. Until then, hopefully someone can Britpick for me in the review section, and I can gleefully ignore them.


	2. Welcome to Hogwarts

David Anderson and the Marauding Marauders, Chapter 2: Welcome to Hogwarts

The first years all walked into the Great Hall, where the other students were already sitting down at the house tables. The Hogwarts choir sang its awful song with no form of poetic meter, causing David and Harry to ask, "What're all the houses for?"

Ted replied, "There's Gryffindor, house of the brave. Hufflepuff, house of the loyal, Ravenclaw, house of the knowledge seekers, and Slytherin, house of the ambitious."

David was first to be Sorted, and the hat put him in Slytherin. David didn't object to that, seeing as he was ambitious. Several morewere Sorted, and then Ted was called up. The hat put him in Gryfindor as it brushed against one of his hairs. A few more, and then Harry was called up, to much confusion and applause. He was put into Slytherin as well, and then Gabby's turn came. The hat put her in Ravenclaw. The ceremony drew to a close, and the Headmistress stood up to make an announcement.

"Now that everyone is sorted, let us begin our feast. But first, a few ground rules for the benefit of the first years. The forest on the grounds is by-and-large forbidden. That is why we call it the Forbidden Forest. Were you allowed inside, it would simply be the forest. Your luggage has been brought to your dormitories by the house elves, and when the feast is over, you will be led to your house common rooms by your house's prefects. Now, enjoy."

And then, in that moment, the Lord said, "Let there be food." And yea, it was delicious, and varied, and in large quantities.

After the feast, an experience that some would call 'religious', David and Harry were lead to the Slytherin Common room, located in the dungeons. They found that the password was "Serpentis Majora", and found the 1st Year Slytherin Boy's Dormitory, with their luggage already there. David and Harry, after checking their luggage to ensure everything was in order, went to sleep, their bellies laden with food.

The next morning, David and Harry had Herbology and Potions, then, after lunch, Transfiguration and Broomstick Flying. Herbology with Professor Longbottom seemed like it would be a rather easy yet useful class; Professor Longbottom was nice enough, and was very, very competent in his vocation. Potions with Professor Zabini was going to be a useful class as well, from what David could tell. The good Professor seemed to know what he was doing, as well. Lunch was followed by a free hour, in which the New Marauders met in the library.

David was the first to speak. "So, Harry and I have Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration, and Broomstick Flying today, in that order. What've you got, Ted?"

"I've got Charms, Defense, History, and Astronomy today. How 'bout you, Gab?"

"I've been to Transfiguration and Broomstick Flying, and I've got Charms and Potions later. So, how are we going to remove wizardkind's dependency on owls? Letters through the Floo?"

"I'm sorry?"

"The Floo. It's a magical network of fireplaces that you can travel instantly through."

"…Is it just me, or are wizards insane?"

Harry chimed in,"They are indeed, my friend. Anyways, I think we should find out what magic is capable of."

"A wise decision, if I've ever heard one. Alright, our current milestone is to find some spells that can be used for communication. By which I mean things like text, or perhaps one's voice. Perhaps images, too…"

"Well, I'll keep my eye out for those. So, should we establish some sort of structure to the New Marauders, so that adding more people later is easier, in terms of bringing them up to speed?"

"No. We, us four, are the New Marauders. That is us exclusively. We aren't above starting a new group into which we can iduct others, but nobody else can join the New Marauders. Not until our seventh year, when we pass on the torch."

"Pass on the torch?"

"Oh, yes, we need to keep the Marauding Tradition alive, don't we?"

"I may regret bringing up the Marauders…"

"That you will. Now, let's use the remaining 55 or so minutes to do research. We're in the library, so let's start reading some books. Or, rather, making a list of book titles, because we need to decide which books will be in any way helpful. So, everyone grab a pen and pad, and we'll split up."

They all pulled out a pad of parchment and a quill, except Harry, who asked the librarian if there was a list of books in the library that he could have a copy of. There was, and he took his copy, and began writing down the titles of books he thought might be useful. When the Marauders reconvened at the table, about an hour later, they found Harry smiling smugly at them.

"How did you-"

"I asked the librarian for a list."

"Why didn't you tell us you were doing that, so that we could, oh, I don't know, not waste an hour of our time?"

"The original Marauders were legendary pranksters. I figured it's time and past we follow in their footsteps."

"Pretty weak, as far as pranks go. It wasn't funny in the least, and actually kinda dickish."

"Alright, I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?"

"Why wouldn't we? I'm just saying, we need to work on your pranks. Now, my idea for a prank is such; We get a large bag of garlic powder, and dump it into the water tank used for the showers."

"That's brilliant. Ted, do you know where I could find the kitchen?"

"Harry, I couldn't find my backside with both hands if my head wasn't firmly lodged inside it."

"That's… more than a little disgusting."

"Why thank you, Gabby. Now, I suppose that these lists are useless, so, I'll just crumple them up and use them for kindling later."

"Go on ahead. Also, I think that one can summon the house elves simply by clapping and saying the name of one of them. If I recall correctly, then there's an elf here named Kreacher."

There was a crack, and a house elf was standing before the quartet.

"You called for Kreacher?"

"No, but we did want to talk to you. Kreacher, if it's not a hassle, could you help us acquire a large bag of garlic powder?"

"I will give you your garlic powder, but, if Kreacher may ask, why do you want it?"

David chimed in, "The Marauders return to Hogwarts, and we're ready to spread the word."

"Oh, damnations. Master Sirius was one of those fools, in the original incarnation. Why? Why do you bloody children do these awful things?"

"Well, I'm his nephew, and another marauder's son. Marauding is in my blood."

Kreacher disappeared, then reappeared, holding a large burlap sack of garlic powder. He gave it to Ted, with a look of disgust on his face. He then disappeared again.

David was the first to break the silence.

"So, I do believe we need to get to our classes. I'll stuff that into my pouch, it's much larger on the inside."

With that, the four left for their classes. And now, dear reader, I feel it best to give some physical descriptions of our Marauders.

David is a tall lad for his age, fairly slim, and moves with an unmistakeable grace that he acquired from a childhood learning sleight of hand tricks. His hair is brown, his eyes brownish-green, not that you could tell, because he posesses a pair of glasses that always seem to be reflecting a light source, concealing his eyes and preventing eye contact.

Ted is in a constant state of physical flux, but mostly resembles his father at age 11. He's rather clumsy, much like his mother. When he's mad, his eyes glow red. And I mean whn he gets really mad. Seriously pissed. I mean when he's getting ready to administer death to the source of his ire.

Gabrielle has long, straight, dark brown hair. Her eyes are a pleasant tone of blue, and she's also somewhat tall and slim. She walks and moves like a normal person, with a little more fluidity of motion.

Harry looks nothing like the Boy Who Lived, Harry James Potter. HJP has brown hair, and green eyes, and was also rather tall and thin. This Harry possesses pure, white as snow hair, gray eyes, is somewhat short for his age, and has a healthy amount of fat reserves building up. He's not fat, he's stocky.

Harry and Ted both have messy hair. Gabby, being a feminine female, takes good care of her hair. David alternates between messy hair and neatly-groomed hair, depending on whether he will need to use his showmanship. Nobody has seen his hair well groomed at Hogwarts, and it will be a while before it becomes an established pattern.

David and Harry were a bit fast on the uptake in Transfiguration and Broomstick flying. And, in Broomstick Flying, they met a somewhat important little Slytherin while up in the air.

They were mostly stationairy, talking in conspiratorial whispers about how they were going to avoid the garlic, when another boy flew up to them.

"Hello, there. I'm Michael Greengrass, of the Ancient and Noble House Greengrass. I meant to make introductions yesterday, but I was… _indisposed_."

"I'm David Anderson, and that's Harry Potter, no relation to the Boy-Who-Lived."

"Well, that's good. The Boy Who Lived was a bloody coward and a liar. He claimed credit for what the Malfoys, Parkinsons, and Greengrasses did in the war. And now he's famous for it? No justice, I tell you."

While Michael said this, David and Harry flew away very quickly, utilizing his distraction and absorption in his diatribe. When Michael looked up, he saw that the two had gone.

"Well, bollocks."

After the last class of the day let out, David and Harry went on a walk with Sirius. It wasn't long before they ran into Ted and Gabby.

David was the first to say anything. "Why, hello there. Fancy seeing you lot here."

Ted replied, "Indeed. So, meet any interesting folks in your classes? I forgot to bring that up."

Harry interjected, "We did. One Mr. Michael Greengrass, who seems to think that my coincidental namesake is a fraud, and that his family, and some other families did all the fighting in the war."

"Which ones?"

"He said something about Mouthfulls, and some muggle disease that causes muscle spasms."

David cuffed Harry across the back of the head, and said, "Those jokes, if they can be called such, are awful. He mentioned the Malfoys and the Parkinsons. We didn't do much in the way of talking to him, once he said that much. I think it's time we declare a formal prank war."

"Ah, keep the little shit in check?"

"Harry! Language!"

"Yes, _Mum_."

David intervened quickly to prevent a war between Harry and Gabby.

"Yes, we're going to keep him in check, and ruin his chances of leading the other Slytherins. We'll start with a bit of garlic powder and bacon grease in his bed, then move on from there."

"But how are we going to discredit him that way?"

"Oh, no, we'll just make him too scared to lead. Psychological warfare, and the like."

Ted interjected, "Well, maybe wait until he does something before we traumatize him. We are, after all, supposed to be the good guys."

David looked taken aback. "We are? Oh, bollocks, should've told me that earlier. I'd already taught Sirius to go for the eyes."

"What, the little puppy currently pooping on your shoe?"

David looked down, and saw that, while Sirius was pooping, it was not on his shoe. He looked up, at a grinning Theodore Lupin, and cuffed him lightly about the ears. The conversation drifted to inconsequential things, and then, at dinner, Michael approached David and Harry again, followed by two rather large boys, for their age of 11.

Michael said, trying to be diplomatic, "My apologies for earlier. I'd forgotten that my father's worldviews were… radical… Perhaps we can try again?"

David was first to respond. "We're muggleborns, the both of us, and one of our friends is the godson of the Boy Who Lived. We know our magical history fairly well, and we recognize that you're the next Draco Malfoy or Severus Snape. We're not inclined to be friendly."

Harry piped in, "In fact, we've agreed to work to keep you in check. If you start being awful, we're going to make you scared of your own shadow. So, behave."

"Hrmph. You think I'm scared of you?"

"Not yet, but you will be. Soon enough."

Michael turned on his heel, and walked away, nose in the air. The two boys followed him, and then David and Harry were left alone. Mostly. There was a seventh year sitting across from them, and he was looking at them with an expression of pride.

He said something. "Wow. Good job. Most people don't have the guts to stand up to a kid like that. Y'know, pureblood-and-proud, rich, of a noble house. They're very annoying people, and yet, most people are still afraid of them. I am the one they call Majora."

David, continuing his role as group ambassador, spoke first. "I am David, and this is Harry. No relation to the famous Boy-who-lived, despite identical last names. So, Majora, do you know any spells that could be used in delivering a message? Like a letter, only without an owl."

Majora smiled, and replied, "I do, and I'd be willing to help you. All I want to know is, why do you want to know? Owls are sufficient, are they not?"

David laughed, then stopped. "Owls? Delivering mail? In the age of the internet?" He started laughing again.

Harry took over. "My apologies for my colleague, he has some rather high standards for what he considers adequate communication. So, do you know any...?"

"Of course. I'll put them all down in a spellbook, and give that to you later."

"Thank you. We shall use it to fix what we percieve as broken."

"Naturally. So, is he going to stop lughing soon, or..?"

"I have no idea."

It took another minute before David calmed down and stopped laughing like a hyena. The rest of dinner passed uneventfully, and David set an early alarm before going to bed. The next morning saw David and Harry awake before anyone else, and showering early, before dumping the garlic powder in the water tank, and mixing it in. They replaced the lid, ran off to the common room, and threw the empty burlap sack into the fireplace. They then remembered sirius, and David went and fetched him from the dormitory, and the two sat on one of the couches and enjoyed the fire and the dog.

Michael Greengrass awoke, grabbed some clothes, and headed to the shower. There were already a few boys in there, and he grabbed an empty stall.

He turned on the shower, and sighed in pleasure as the hot water poured from the showerhead and massaged his skin. Then, he sniffed, and smelled something odd. He sniffed again, double checking, and his suspicions were now more solid. He said, hoping for a response, "Does anyone else smell garlic?"

He heard the faint sounds of people breathing in deeply, ans then , "Yeah, I smell it too." "Same here." "Did someone rub themselves with garlic bread?"

And then, they all realized that they had been had. They quickly wrapped towels around their waist, covering their legs to the knee(they didn't want their clohes smelling of garlic), and stormed into the common room to find David and Harry sitting there, on one of the couches, petting a puppy. Michael had the feeling that they were the pranksters in question, and he was livid.

"What did you two do?!"

David turned to face him, giggled a bit, and said,"Is there a reason you lot are sans clothes?"

"You put garlic in the sowers, didn't you?"

David looked shocked and hurt. "What, me? Why would I betray my fellow Slytherins?"

"Oh don't give me that. You're both traitors to this house!"

"What, a traitor, in a house known for duplicity and deceit? Why is this a surprise to you? Of course, this assume that we're the culprits."

Harry interjected, "Which we are not. Why do you think it was us? I mean, David and I aren't friends with you, but we're not the sort to ask the elves for a bag of garlic powder, pour it in the water tank, and then run off giggling. Anyways, breakfast is in 15 minutes. You lot should shower and get dressed- you all smell strongly of garlic."

"That's your fault, you duplicitous, backstabbing bastards!"

David took over once more. "Hey! My parents were married for 19 years before I was born!"

Harry added in, "Mine were married for 5."

David then turned to Harry, and said, "Wait, how old are your parents?"

"Around 35 and 41."

"Hrmph. Any siblings?"

"A little sister. Name's Ellen. She's 7."

"Huh. She gonna be joining us in 4 years?"

"Yep. Professor Thomas said she was going to develop magic. How about you? You got any siblings?"

"4 sisters, all older than me. They didn't get the Hogwarts Letter."

"Lucky dog. How old are they?"

"Youngest one just went off to uni. Second youngest just finished."

"Ah."

"If you're quite done chatting, I demand an apology."

"And you're not going to get one. I'm innocent, I say! Innocent!"

"Yeah, and I'm the heir of Slytherin."

"Really? Can you talk to snakes? Harry can, but he's probably not the heir. Maybe. He might be descended from some offshoot of Clan Slytherin that was squib-ified, and merged with Muggles. Who knows? Not me. Did good old Salazar have white hair before becoming an old man?"

"That I don' know, David. But maybe."

"You two are infuriating!"

And Michael stormed out of the room, in a mood reminescent of a man who's just been pooped on by several malicious birds. David and harry burst out laughing, at first in a normal manner, but soon resembling the chortle of Statler and Waldorf.

The next week went by quickly, as David and Harry visited each of their classes at least once. On Sunday, Majora gave them the spellbook, and they started reading it, before realizing that they couldn't understand it. Letters were written, and a record exists below.

To: Gran

From: Teddy

So, Hogwarts is shaping up nicely. Our year is a little sparse, but next year will be fairly dense. I'm in Gryffindor, and I may or may not have resurrected the Marauders. As part of this, we may or may not have poured a very large bag of garlic powder into the water tank for the Slytherin Boy's showers. My co-conspirators may or may not be two muggleborns, one of them named David Anderson, the other Harry Potter(No, he is NOT related to the Harry you're thinking of). Then we've got a mostly-pure-blood girl named Gabrielle Prewett. Tell Harry(you know which one) I said hello, and to avoid Hogwarts for the next seven years. It's going to be a mess.

To: Teddy

From: Gran

You don't do things by half, do you? I've passed along your message, and Harry is amused. Don't hurt yourself or others when you're doing these pranks.

To: Harry

From: Andromeda

So, our little Teddy has taken up his father's sword, and now bears the title of Marauder. He wanted me to tell you that Hogwarts is best avoided for the duration of his stay. Also, there's a boy at Hogwarts, a muggleborn, with your name. Yes, he is named Harry Potter. If there was just a muggleborn at Hogwarts named Harry, that wouldn't be noteworthy. Also, what time should I be at the Burrow for the festivities?

To: Andromeda

From: Harry.

Well, that's a surprise. I'll be sending him a care package soon. Also, Molly said be there at 2. Your job is to bring the firewhiskey, in case you forgot that. I'm looking forward to the party, and yes, I will bring my children. I would think everyone'd rather I leave my children at home, but no, my children are so lovely and special. To you, at least. I have to live with them. Do you know what that's like? It's hell, Andromeda. It's hell.

To: Harry

From: Andromeda

Oh, no, your children are lovely little angels! They fart rainbows!

To: Andromeda

From: Harry

No, they're tough little devils. They eat lightning and crap thunder. That reminds me, movie night has been cancelled next week. Something came up at the ministry, and I have to deal with it.

To: Mum

From: Harry

Apparently, I share a name with a wizard celebrity. I'm fine.

To: Mum

From: David

I'm at Hogwarts, eveything is fine, and nobody is seriously injured.

To: Cain

From: Majora

I've found our proteges. Two little firsties, both willing to stand up to the purebloods. Should I initiate them now, or later?

To: I wish I never showed you that game

From: Stop calling me that

Later. I'll need to figure out what attachments they've got, outside House Slytherin.

To: Never

From: You know it was worth it

Alright, then. Also, the're both mudbloods, but they can still be used.

To: Prejudiced Asshole

From: Facepalming

Why does that matter so much to you? We both know you don't care for the purebloods, wouldn't that remove your blood purity prejudices?

To: What is that?

From: I'm not an asshole…

Look, I can't explain it, but it's there. Just leave it be, and it won't bite.

To: Yes you are

From: A sign of disappointment

And it's illogical. Also annoying.

To: Well, that explains nothing

From: No I'm not

Look, let's just cut this off. We both like the school intact, so let's not get ino a duel over this.

To: You're the biggest asshole since the first Seer

From: Put your palm on your forehead, and you will understand.

Alright then. Also, do they have nicknames already?

To: Cain

From: Do you mean he was full of shit?

I don't know. I'll ask at breakfast.

To: Yes

From: Cain

Good man.

Author's Notes

This took longer to write than expected, but it still didn't take so much time that I couldn't build a backlog. As always, feel free to Britpick, and, in case you can't detect sarcasm on the internet, I won't ignore you. The Britpicks for the first chapter were incorporated about a day after posting.


	3. Shifting to Second Gear

David Anderson and the Marauding Marauders, Chapter 3: Shifting to Second Gear

The Marauders had convened on the lawn, after lunch on a warm Saturday, and were enjoying the warmth of the sun and each other's company, when an owl flew overhead and dropped a letter into David's lap.

David cautiously opened the letter, and saw that it was from the Greengrass bloke. It read thusly:

David Anderson,

You and Harry Potter have been summoned to our Head of House's office for what you have done. He wanted me to tell you. Arrive at 2:00 PM today.

-Michael Greengrass

"Well, Harry, it's time to go pay the piper. We've had our fun, but Professor Zabini has enough reason to believe Greengrass to summon us to her office. Assuming it's not a trap, that is. Kreacher!"

Kreacher appeared on the lawn, facing David.

"You called, young master?"

"Take this letter to Professor Zabini, if you will, and ask if he actually wants to speak with us, or if this is a trap from Greengrass."

"And if it is?"

"Well, we shall deal with Greengrass, and render him so afraid of us that he'll never try this sort of thing again."

"Excellent, young master. You will do well in Slytherin."

"Oh, Kreacher, you flatter me. Thank you for your services."

And with that, Kreacher disappeared with a crack, and came back with a crack a few seconds later.

"Zabini did wish to speak with you. Kreacher shall take you there."

Kreacher grabbed Harry and David, and disappeared with both of them, leaving a confused Ted and Gabby with Sirius, who was now disgruntled due to the sudden cessation of belly rubs.

David and Harry reappeared in Zabini's office, and heard the crack of Kreacher disappearing to somewhere else.

Professor Zabini first spoke.

"So, are you two the ones responsible for the garlic incident?"

David felt something seem to brush against his mind.

"What was that? Was that you? Are you reading my mind?"

Zabini sighed. "I was. You have a bargaining chip over me now."

David looked at Zabini with scrutiny.

"I'm not sure if I believe that. You're the Slytherin Head of House. You should not be so easily tricked."

"Hm. Clever boy. Tell me, do you know how many students seem to think that they can fool me? Don't answer that. It's a number I've lost count of. To answer some questions you might be asking yourself now, yes, I did try to read your mind, no, you weren't supposed to know, and I told you this as a token of trust, which is a valuable commodity among us. So, did you pour garlic in the water tanks?"

"Allegedly."

Harry piped in, "Supposedly."

Zabini retook the conversation. "While I admire your ability to keep yourselves free from trouble, I much prefer a straight answer."

David, as group diplomat, replied, "I am afraid that Marauders Incorporated is out of stock, regarding straight answers. All the ones remaining in our warehouse are reserved. Would a straight jacket be an acceptable substitute?"

"You two are going to be as bad as the Weasley twins! Well, back when they were the Weasley Twins. Nowadays, they're the Weasley Twin."

"Wait, what?"

"Fred and George Weasley were identical twins. George Weasley runs Weasley's Wizard Wheazes in Diagon Alley, and is now a rather solemn man. Fred Weasley died in the Battle of Hogwarts in 1998. But, during the time they were alive, they were notorius pranksters. They would sometimes take turns asking someone questions, so that the other had time to think of something. You two are headed down that path."

"Oh. Well then. So, where were we going with this?"

"I wanted to know if you two were responsible for the garlic incident. But now, I want to know why Mr. Greengrass was the one who brought it to my attention."

"Oh, well, Harry and I are at odds with Greengrass. We think he's an arrogant, blood-purist, incompetent moron, and he thinks we're insolent worms. So, naturally, we hate each other."

"I see. Well, I think I can make an allowance for you three. You're allowed to prank him, and only him, and he's allowed to prank you, and only you, without consequences from me, unless there is an injury. You may go."

David and Harry left, and walked back to where Ted, Gabby, and Sirius were sitting. Gabby asked the first question.

"Alright, Ted and I flipped a knut for it, what did Zabini want?"

"Professor Zabini wanted to know why we didn't like Greengrass. He's decided that it's officially a Slytherin Intrigue Duel, or something or other. He'll turn a blind eye to us, so long as we don't cause any injury. In his own words, 'if there's no blood, it's not my problem'."

"Did you mention that we were your co-conspirators?"

"I'll bring that up when he asks for it."

"Ah."

The rest of the day was uneventful for the Marauders, but for others, ideas were given shape, became plans. And those that were already plans, were put into motion. We shift out focus to Professor Simon Lane, who was in Dumbledore's Army in 1995. He teaches Defense, here at Hogwarts.

Simon was writing out a formal proposal for a club he'd had in the works for a week. His plan was to separate students of each year into 3 armies, and hold mock battles with them, so that when the next war came, everyone would be ready. He mentioned that spells with the potential to cause injury were forbidden from the mock battles in the proposal. He finished writing it, transfigured it into an owl, set a triggered dispellation on it, to trigger when it reached Dean.

A few minutes later, Dean came into his office, and sat down in one of the chairs. He spoke first.

"Well, Simon, this is a surprise."

"I just think that it would be best for everyone to be prepared."

"Yes, you mentioned that. I think it's a good idea, personally. Go on ahead with it. I will suggest, however, giving each army's general an unused classroom to use as an office and meeting room."

"Oh, that's a good idea. I think I'll do that. So, I'll tell the students in class, and maybe have the elves put up posters in the halls."

"Good man. Now, I must be going. Make certain nobody gets hurt, and that they learn something."

"I will."

Dean then stood up, and left the room. Simon was excited, and tried to calm himself enough to create an attention-grabbing poster. The poster he came up with featured six wizards in two teams having a pitched battle, and he made many copies of it. He then summoned Kreacher, and had him assign house elves to put them up in the hallways. He then relaxed, before realizing he had more work to do, and started grading homework.

David and Harry were in Defense Class the following Monday, and when class had started, Professor Lane stood up, and spoke.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I have started a student organization that I call the Defense Association. Students who join will be sorted into one of 3 armies with other students of their year. The first years will only fight the other first years, and so on. These armies will be fighting in mock battles, in the hopes that when the next war arrives, we'll be ready. If you wish to sign up, you may do so now. Simply come up here and write your name on the sheet. The Saturday after next, the signup sheet will be closed, and I will assign armies. Please be aware that house points will not be awarded for performance in the club, and that any spells that can cause lasting injury are forbidden. This club will be no more dangerous than Quidditch."

David and Harry exchanged a look, then, with a suddenness that belonged in a cartoon, rushed to the front of the room to be the first to sign up. The rest of the class was shocked by this display, but slowly snapped out of it, as a few others signed up as well. All in all, about half the class signed up for the club. The rest of the class passed like the others had. By which I mean that after the signing up was finished, that particular iteration of Defense Class was much like any other. I was not referring to the others in the defense class. Blimey, this is confusing. MOVING ON TO THE NEXT SCENE.

It was the free hour after lunch, and the Marauders were on the front lawn of Hogwarts, sitting and chatting. David was the first to initiate conversation when the four met up.

"So, Professor Lane started this club where students were split into three armies and mock battles were staged. He said it was in preparation for the next war. Anyway, me and Harry-"

Gabby interrupted,"Harry and I."

Ted piped in,"Does it really matter?"

"Yes, it does."

David retook the conversation. "Harry and I both signed up for it. I'm hoping you two will as well."

"But of course."

"Fine, I'll sign up too."

"Wonderful! It's a glorious day in this man's army."

No, David has no played Fallout 3. Don't ask where it came from, he just thought it was a funny thing to say.

The discussion then moved on to the subject of more pranks, and how exactly they were going to get several liters of bacon grease, many kilograms of corn flour, and a colony of ants. Eventually, it was decided that they would forgo the ants, and that Kreacher would help them.

That night, under cover of darkness, Harry and David mixed a concoction of bacon grease and corn flour in a cauldron. They poured the large, gooey mass that resulted into Michael Greengrass' dresser, where he kept his clothes. They then left a note on his nightstand, written by a dictation quill, that read thusly;

Dear Mr. Greengrass,

You have received a declaration of war from a group we shall refer to as 'The Marauders'. The Marauders do not forget, they do not forgive, and they strike as they did the previous night. This strike was brought to you by Marauders Solid Snake and Psycho Mantis. At any point, you may surrender to the Marauders, and sign a treaty with them. This is advised. However, you may let pride get the better of you and decide that the best course of action is to strike back. This is foolish. The Marauders are anonymous. We are legion, and yet we are one. Fear us, for it is the only course of action worth taking.

-Psycho Mantis and Solid Snake.

They waited an hour for the greasy corn mixture to soak into his clothes, and then carefully removed the excess. The excess was carefully poured onto his bed, with him still sleeping. They then went back to sleep. The next morning, they were awakened by a high pitched scream, which caused Sirius to start barking in an adorable manner. Everyone rushed to the source of the screaming, which was one Michael Greengrass, who had just woken up to a totally saturated bed, where the saturant in question was bacon grease and corn flour mixed to create a very thick sludge. Sirius had jumped onto Michael's bed and started licking the bedsheets for the flavor of bacon. No, I am not putting a 'u' in flavor. I'm not British, or Canadian, or Australian.

Everyone was confused, and eventually Michael ran out of breath, and noticed the note on his night stand. He grabbed it, and read it silently. He looked up at David and Harry, who both looked like they were just as confused as him, and he crumpled the note in his hands. He reached for his dresser, and grasped one of the knobs, and found that he couldn't get a good grip on it, as it, too, was coated in bacon grease. He eventually managed to pull out the drawer, and drew his wand from it, which he could not keep a grip on for very long. He grabbed one of his socks to wipe the grease off, and found that that did nothing to help his situation. He screamed to the heavens in frustration and agony, and jumped out of bed, only to slip and fall on the smooth, greasy tile floor of the dormitories. There was silence, then there was the sound of agonized gurgling. Someone ran to get Madam Pomfrey, and another ran for Professor Zabini. Both came into the dormitory, at the same time, to find Michael Greengrass lying facedown on the floor in a pool of bacon grease.

Zabini spoke first. "What… what is… I don't even…"

No, Zabini has never been on the internet.

Madam Pomfrey spoke next. "Is he hurt?"

She then walked carefully over to him, avoiding slipping through the use of shoes. She cast a diagnostic spell on him, and he was not hurt. She declared as much, and Zabini excused himself, saying that if nobody was hurt, then it wasn't his problem. Michael slowly pulled himself off of the floor, and lurched towards David and Harry, a look of rage in his eyes.

"I know it was you."

"No you don't."  
"We're innocent, we are."

"Like hell you're innocent! What, you think that I'd seriously believe for a second that you two aren't trying to undermine my authority?"

"Pft. What authority?"  
"You've as much authority as a dog."  
"Wait, no, a dog can still influence a human's actions. He might rub his head against your head when he wants att-"

"WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP AND LISTEN."

"Hah, no."  
"Can you believe this guy?"  
"I can't."

"BOLLOCKS TO IT, I GIVE UP."

And with that, Michael stormed out of the room to the showers, in hopes of removing the bacon grease and corn flour that coated him. Everyone else just shrugged, and went about their morning routines.

It took about 2 minutes or so for the average Slytherin boy to shower. Michael took 10 minutes to remove all the bacon grease and corn flour coating him. He then emitted another cry of anguish when he found all of his clothes to be soaked in corn flour and bacon grease as well. David whispered into Harry's ear, "His bitter tears- delicious.", and they both shared a laugh.

Simon was carefully deciding who to make a general of each army. He'd paid a fair bit of attention to the relations between the students. He could tell that Greengrass was going to be accruing a following in Slytherin, much as many Pureblood-Princes had before him, and decided that he would be a good choice for one of the generals. 1/3 of the first year generals done, he turned to one of the few inter-house circles of friends, consisting of David Anderson, Harry Potter, Ted Lupin, and Gabrielle Prewett. With some help from the Slytherin Spy Network, he'd found that David was the leader amongst them, and had managed to rope all of the others into working together to do something. He didn't know what they were planning to do. But he felt that David's ability to get people from different houses to work together warranted a generalship. And his feud with Greengrass, and the entertainment from watching the two fight on the field of battle, also factored in rather heavily. Now, for the last one, he decided that he would appoint one Mr. Tom Herrington from Hufflepuff to be a general. He was a clever boy, and a natural leader. He moved on to the second years…

The news came to him by an owl at breakfast; David was a general. He shared this with Harry, who was surprised and pleased. Michael received a letter to the same effect, and felt validated. Meanwhile, on the Hufflepuff table, one Mr. Tom Herrington received his notification. After breakfast, each of the generals were called to Professor Lane's office, to be briefed.

"Alright, you lot, settle down. As I'm sure you're aware, you've all been selected to be generals. If you don't want to be a general, say so now and you don't have to be. No? Everyone happy with being a general? Good. You've all been given an unused classroom to use as a throne room, or an office, or whatever you want to call it. Now, I'll be assigning students to your armies, and you can appoint lieutenants. Here are your lists. Come up with a name for your armies. Something creative, clever, and/or funny. You are now dismissed. Go on, get. Shoo. I don't want you in here."

Each of the generals was given a sheet of paper, listing the people in their army. Greengrass did not get any Slytherins save for his two large bodyguard-esque friends. David got the rest of the Marauders. Also on each sheet was directions to the office of that particular general. David, after a moment of thought, decided that naming his army 'The Marauders' was a bad idea, and 'The House Marode' was a bad history joke. He settled on 'Guns of Icarus', knowing that he'd have to explain the story of Icarus to most of his army, along with what a gun was.

That Tuesday, David held a practice session for his army. He had asked Kreacher to find everyone in his army and tell them to meet on the lawn in front of Hogwarts. They had done so, and David had managed to drag a podium out there, and began with a speech to his army of 32.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am not yet proud to be your general. But, given time, we will fix that. I will teach you how to fight. I will make you into something I can be proud of, that you can be proud of, that we all can be proud of. Right now, you lot are almost completely worthless in a fight. You are moving targets, cannon fodder, and a background to the real fighters. But I will fix that- WE, will fix that. We will fight in the forest! We will fight in the halls! We will fight on the beaches! We will fight on the boats! And we will never give up, not to Greengrass, not to Herrington. Are you willing to learn?"  
There was a chorus of "Yeah!" all throughout the crowd.  
"Are you willing to fight?"  
Another chorus.  
"Are you ready to become soldiers this nation can be proud of?"  
A final chorus sounded.  
"Well, what are we waiting for, then? Let's start. Pair up, and take turns firing the sleeper curse at each other and dodging. Stand 10 meters apart. Lupin, Prewett, Potter, you're all with me. Begin."

There was a rush as people paired up and began throwing curses at each other with pitiful aim or dodging with telegraphed movements. The Marauders all gathered around the podium, and David addressed them quietly.

"Alright, guys. What I need you to do is start summoning targets. Enough for everyone to have a target."

They nodded, and began summoning targets. This got easier and easier as they went, going from difficult to easy. After 15 minutes of that truly embarrassing display, which grew less embarrassing as the minutes passed, David called a halt to the current activity, and had everyone start shooting at the targets from a distance. They then switched between shooting the targets and shooting each other and dodging for the next hour, when they were all tired, and David no longer wanted to deal with them. All of them except the Marauders were dismissed, and the Marauders had a group conference. David kicked off the conversation.

"So , what did you guys think of my speech?"

"Not bad."  
"Could've been worse."  
"I thought you were good with large audiences. With that expectation, it was lacking."

"Okay, well I didn't give the speeches onstage. I was the one who did the sleight of hand tricks. Anyways, they're getting better, I think. Maybe next time we can work on conjuration and transfiguration. Those are useful skills. Oh, and I need to find a spell for earthmoving, or for summoning shovels. Perhaps Majora can be of use."

"Who?"  
"The guy who gave us the spellbook with the communication spells in it."  
"Oh, well we should ask him."

"That's what I just said. Now, as to why I need a spell for earthmoving, I feel that if we can dig trenches and build dirt-pile walls, we will have an advantage. We can erect defenses, and build a sort of camp that the enemy has to storm, after they've beaten the hell out of the other army, allowing us to fight the remainders of the victors. It's a tactic I use in RTS games."

"RTS? What's that?"  
"Real time strategy game. It's a muggle thing."  
"And what's it do?"  
"I'll explain later."

"So, what I want you guys to do is practice your transfiguration and conjuration. A lot. A whole lot. At least an hour a day."

"Jesus, you're quite the taskmaster."

"I'll be doing this too, and everyone else is going to be doing it in this army."

"That reminds me, did you think of a name for the army?"

"I thought of 'Guns of Icarus', but I don't think that'll be the best. Any ideas?"

"Not yet. I'll get back to you on that."

"Right, well, it's time for dinner. Let's go."

With that, they left for dinner.

A transcript of messages sent;

To: Gran

From: Ted

I'm still alive, I'm not missing any bits.

To: Ted

From: Gran

You've become more laconic than usual. Any reason?

To: I had to look that up

From: I don't like the library

I've not much to say.

To: Majora

From: David

If it's not too much of a bother, do you know a spell that can dig trenches and use the displaced dirt to build a wall?

To: The Student

From: The Master

Yeah, I know one. It's pretty simple. Why do you need it?

To: The Ancient

From: The Young

I'm keeping that under my hat for now…

To: Git

From: I'm 17, that's not ancient

Oh? Well, you had my curiosity. Now you have my attention.

To: It is to me

From: Quit talking to yourself, it's creepy

Look, you'll find out soon enough. I take it you're going to be watching the battles?

To: Very mature

From: It's ~150% your age

Well, I wasn't going to, but I am now…

To: George

From: Harry

So, I'm feeling the need to do something productive. What say I come over and help with some research?

To: Harry

From: George

Sure, why not? I'm working on some candies that give an out of body experience. Testing them on Ron, of course.

To: George

From: Harry

Good lord, you're quite the knobsack, aren't you?

To: Harry

From: George

Well, of course.

Author's notes:

So, another chapter winds to a close, and I reveal that I'm stealing a few ideas from Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality. But this is a fanfic, and so I'm allowed to steal from other authors, so long as it's not their actual writing. Ideas, plotlines, characters, settings, those are all fair game. And I will be stealing a few other things from HPMOR in later chapters. But no, David's not going to be turning the Guns of Icarus into the Chaos Legion. That'll be Tom, with the Cods of Duty. Nah, I'm just kidding. Nobody will be the Chaos Legion. Also, somebody, please leave a better name for David's army in the reviews. The Guns of Icarus is a rather unwieldy name.


End file.
